


Comfort

by Espereth



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Community: asscreedkinkmeme, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espereth/pseuds/Espereth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1506, Cesare has escaped custody, and the Assassins are looking for him. Ezio returns to Ferrara after the events of the da Vinci Disappearance DLC and meets with Lucrezia in her chambers. Porn ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

It was a warm night in Ferrara, and the air of the gardens at the Delizio di Belriguardo smelled of flowers and clipped greenery. Grunting softly with effort, Ezio Auditore jumped up to grip the stone outcrop of a small balcony on the eastern side of the Palazzo, and pulled himself over the wrought-iron railing.

“I knew you would be back, _Assassino_.” Lucrezia Borgia stood in her nightgown, watching him. 

Ezio straightened, and looked at her. Lucrezia's long, fair hair was unbound and fell below her waist, still wavy from spending the day in a braid. Her face was bare, and the wisps of blond hair framing it were slightly damp, as though she had just washed. Her eyes were calculating and utterly unafraid. 

“If you have come to rob me again,” she said, “I am afraid you will find the art on my husband's walls of little interest. He does not share your love of Leonardo da Vinci's work.”

“You know that is not why I have come,” said Ezio, brushing off his clothes. He pulled back his hood.

Lucrezia picked a twig from his cape and held it between her finger and thumb. “Climbing in the hedges, were we? Aren't you a little old to be sneaking through a girl's bedroom window?”

“For some things, Duchessa, one is never too old.” He watched her eyes, allowing the scarred side of his mouth to curve into a half-smile. She saw it and looked away, her face flushing, reminding him of how young she was. He laughed softly and took a step towards her, taking hold of her wrists in leather-gloved hands. “Have you decided whether or not to call your guards, Lucrezia?”

“No.” Lucrezia pulled away, and he let go. “But while I make up my mind, you may as well come in.” She turned and went into her room, leaving the doors open to the scent of the night. Her nightgown slid and clung around her hips and backside. Watching her walk, he was sure her hips had become fuller since the time he had held his blade to her throat at the Castel Sant'Angelo. He approved. 

“You play upon my emotions, Assassino,” she said, lighting the candles in her chamber. Flickering light was cast over the room, illuminating tapestries, heavy, deep-red curtains and high vaulted ceilings. “But this time, I am not so easily fooled. I believe you have come to search for Cesare.”

“So you have heard of your brother's escape.”

“Of course.” She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. “But why would he come back to Italia? And why would you think I would harbor him, after what you saw him do to me?” A flicker of the deep hurt at Cesare's violent rejection passed across her face.

“That, I do not know,” Ezio said honestly. “But he is still your brother. And while he saw you as merely his sister, I believe your feelings for him are – different.”

“This is true,” she said. “And if you think that through seducing me, you could cause me to give him up to you – you are even more arrogant than I thought.” She stepped towards him and trailed a finger down the front of his armor. Her touch was light, and he felt nothing, but somehow that aroused him all the more powerfully. He felt the blood pound under his collarbone and excitement build in the pit of his stomach. Without thinking, he breathed out, hard. Lucrezia watched him closely. Her breasts were high and firm under the light fabric of her nightgown, nipples showing clearly in the candlelight. He brushed one, running the backs of his fingers over it, then rested his hands on her waist.

"Where is your husband, Duchessa?” he murmured, his voice low and tense with arousal.

“Not here, obviously,” she said, indicating the empty chamber. Her face became closed, and Ezio wondered if the Duca had gone to scout near Ravenna. He had overheard the guards discussing his alliance with the Pope.

“And Patrizio is dead,” she said, her face devoid of emotion. “But I expect you knew that already.”

“You seem very calm about this,” he said, “given that you said he was special to you.” Her expression did not change, so he dropped the point. “And what of the others, Lucrezia?”

“What others?” she snapped.

Ezio smiled faintly. “Why stop at two?”

“ _Ipocrita_ ,” she said. “You judge me for my appetites, but the list of your conquests exceeds my own in every way, except the scrutiny of society. We are -"

"Nothing alike," he said, stepping in close to lay a gloved finger gently against her lips.

She turned her head aside, so that his finger traced her cheekbone. "So you think, Ezio Auditore. I know better.” 

“Do you, now,” he said. He stroked her jawline, ran his thumb across the delicate line of her collarbone. She closed her eyes. 

“I know that, like me, you seek pleasure when you cannot have love. Did you find Leonardo da Vinci safe, Assassino? You know that there are strange discussions about the two of you. How did it feel, to rescue your closest... _friend_ , only to return him to his sweet young lover? Is that why you have come to me?”

“Do not speak of this, Lucrezia,” he said. His voice took on a warning growl, harsher than he had intended, and he felt ashamed of himself. But Lucrezia only smiled in satisfaction.

“You know nothing about me,” he told her, but they both knew that was untrue. Lucrezia was surprisingly astute. He could not help but think that, had she applied her brain to politics instead of petty jealousies, she could have been formidable in her own right.

He stepped forward, looming closer towards her. She walked backwards, and he followed, invading her space in subtle threat. Her back touched the wall but he did not stop. He took her hands, pinned them gently against the wall above her head, and began to kiss her. He kept his eyes open as he pushed his tongue between her lips. He reached for the hem of her nightgown and lifted it, slipping his hand underneath. Through the leather of his glove, he felt the sleek warm skin of her inner thigh. 

She gasped in pleasure, kissing him back. Her shoulders writhed against the wall. "No," she moaned into his mouth. “Ezio... Stop -”

He dropped his hands to her hips.

"As you wish, Duchessa," he said softly, and bowed. He brushed a last kiss to her cheekbone, scraping her smooth pale cheek with his beard. Then he let her go.

Rage glittered in her blue eyes – she was ready to slap him. “ _Bastardo_.”

"You said to stop, Lucrezia. I have no desire to force you." That was not strictly true. The kiss had made him hard as steel. But only a fool would not have seen this coming. A fool, or a young man; and perhaps they were the same thing.

He walked towards the balcony, hands ready to draw the hood of his cloak back up.

“Wait,” said Lucrezia. There was a note of vulnerability in her voice that told him he had won. “I - meant only that we should move to my bed.” With his back still to her, Ezio smirked and let go of his hood.

Ezio pushed her back until she tumbled onto the bed. He stood between her spread thighs as he stripped, dropping cloak, armor, cape, breeches, until he stood over her naked. She lay back, watching him and breathing hard. He urged her backwards on the bed, climbed on after her.

The bed was immense and smelled sweetly of Lucrezia, of her hair and perfume; and, faintly, of another man. The Duca. The thought of taking a woman in her husband's bed made his heart race. He had not done it in years. 

He lifted her nightgown over her waist and pushed her thighs apart. Already she smelled of arousal, the first hint of slick sex glistening between her lips. He groaned and lowered his head to taste her. Lucrezia cried out and her hips rose, back arched, shoulders writhing on the bed. He held her hips to keep her still. 

The scent and taste of her combined as he kissed and tongued her, slow and lingering. She shuddered with sensation at the scrape of his beard against her thighs and delicate sex. He traced the tip of his tongue along her lips, then held her tighter, pinning her firmly to the bed, and flicked the tiny sensitive bud. She screamed and twisted in his grip, then grabbed for his hair and pulled it. 

“None of that,” he said gently, and trapped her wrists against the bed as he bent to tease her again with lips and tongue. God, she was so wet; the moisture from her sex sliding down between her buttocks, onto the sheets. She pushed herself against his mouth, so that his face was snug against her, his beard scratching the delicate skin. 

She sobbed with pleasure. Her hips began to jolt and spasm, and he drew back, knowing she would climax if he didn't.

“Ezio – _please_ ,” she begged. 

“Shh,” he said. “Not so soon. We have all night.”

“ _Stronzo_ ,” she whispered. “I cannot wait all night.” She reached to finger herself, and he took her hand away, laughing. 

Avoiding the centre of her pleasure he dipped long fingers inside her, pushing them slowly in and out. As he did so, he lay alongside her to kiss her mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue and the hair around his mouth. Her eyes were shut, her cheeks flushed, and she was breathing heavily. She kissed him back, all of her slyness gone, replaced with desperate need.

Ezio felt a thrill of power. In the bedchamber, bringing a woman to this state with his lips and tongue was his favoured act. He could bring or deny release. After so many years, he knew he was good. His skill was mostly in self-restraint - the ability to watch a woman writhe, and not take her. To drive her to begging in breathless gasps, and not take her. To taste and smell her body's need, and and not take her; until he was ready.

He straddled her, drew her nightgown over her head and tossed it aside. She was spread out beneath him. He trailed his fingers down over her breasts and belly and thighs, nudged her legs further apart, and prepared to enter her. 

By now he was so hard it hurt. Taking his cock in his hand he rubbed the head against her sex, smearing her own wetness around her entrance and over her flushed sensitive bud. He leaned into her, pushing her open with the thick width of his cock, and she moaned in delight as he sank inside.

He lay flush on top of her and kissed her as he moved his hips slowly back and forth, dipping his cock deeper with each stroke. 

“Ezio, Ezio,” she whispered. Wrapping her legs around his waist she drew him into her. 

Being inside her felt like bliss. He moaned as he fucked her, rubbing his cock against her sweet spot, feeling her body's response, drawing them both closer to climax. Lucrezia began to shudder and he slowed. She moved her hips to urge him.

"Do it, inside me, I don't care," she begged, tossing her head.

"I do." The man that he had been fifteen years ago would most likely have done it, but Ezio did not need that sort of trouble. “I'm sorry, Lucrezia.” He pulled out, slowly, his arms trembling with control. 

" _Figlio di puttana_ , I swear I'll kill you -"

"Shh,” he murmured, and kissed her. “It's all right. Get on your knees, Lucrezia."

He set one hand on her hip to urge her to roll over. With the other, he slipped his fingers inside her, into slick wet heat. 

"How dare you speak to me so," she said. 

Ezio only smiled; he knew that he could speak to her however he pleased, now, and she would writhe and beg just the same. As he predicted, she knelt for him, thighs spread and back arched. 

He had a spectacular view of her, slender back, smooth bottom, fair hair brushing her breasts. His long fingers moved inside her, slow and skilled, keeping her on the edge of release. A drop of wetness slid down the inside of her thigh and he licked the trail back up to her entrance, tonguing and teasing. 

He flicked the tip of his tongue up, just brushing the sensitive ring of her ass, so quickly it could have been an accident, and felt her shudder. He slid his tongue back to the lips of her pussy, then in a little while, again brushed her ass with his tongue-tip. This time she gasped. 

“What are you - _ohh_ \--!”

He kissed her flush on her ass, circled the hole with his tongue, listening to her cries of surprise and delight, edged with shame. Had none of her lovers done this to her? He moaned in disbelief and shoved with his tongue against the tight opening, following with a finger, and she screamed.

As a youth, Ezio had sworn to Leonardo da Vinci when they first became lovers that he would rather die than let another man penetrate him. That Leonardo might prefer to bear the shame in exchange for pleasure, but that an Auditore would not; and besides, he would derive no pleasure from it anyway so what was the sense of trying it? 

It had not taken the engineer long to persuade him otherwise with gentle kisses, skilled fingers and tongue, and a bottle of oil. Ezio had begged, that first time, and the second, and many times afterwards. 

Tonight, Ezio had no oil, but he did not need it. He slid two fingers inside Lucrezia's wet pussy, coating them with her slick juice. Then he probed her ass as he tongued her. He edged a fingertip inside, opened her, added another. He stretched her as he wriggled his tongue. With his other hand, he fingered her, smearing her own sex and coaxing her to ever more desperate cries. 

” _Bastardo_ ,” she gasped. She rocked back against his fingers and tongue as he teased her ass. Then, finally - "Do it. Ezio, please -"

To make his cock slippery enough to take her, he slid it back inside her pussy. She groaned in pleasure and despair at once. “What are you doing now?”

He stroked her back, rocking his hips. “Trust me, Lucrezia,” he said, then eased out and pushed the slick head of his cock against her ass. 

“Please, Ezio -”

He circled the tight opening, eased forward, parting it a little. 

“Like this?” he whispered.

“ _Si_ -”

“ _Si_?”

“Do it -”

The sound she made as he stretched her open with his cock, sinking inside her, had a different quality, intense and taut with pleasure-pain and the strangeness of this sensation. He knew how it felt, and took her slowly, his hand soothing on her back. He closed his eyes, curved his body over hers. She pushed back against him, moaning. 

To be inside her like this was so deeply intimate, with her gasps half-pain, half-ecstasy, that he could almost forget what she was – Borgia. His enemy. Her body quivered as he drew out slightly, and pushed back inside. He moaned. So tight, so hot. He reached around to caress her sex. He slid his fingers inside her, circled his thumb over the tiny, hard centre of her pleasure and felt her jolt in his arms. 

With his cock and fingers inside her, he fucked her, slowing when her cries contained more pain than pleasure, letting her relax; then harder as she urged him with her hips. He curled his fingers inside her, touching and stretching, felt her body twist and writhe under his. She began to shudder, rocking and crying out, and then all of a sudden her climax was upon her. She screamed, shook, her body pliant in his hands. In this moment, he possessed her. She threw her head back against his shoulder, pushed her back and ass against his chest and belly as pleasure wracked her body. 

Ezio could hold himself back no longer, and with one arm around her middle, the other still fingering her, he thrust hard, pulling her tightly against him, his thighs slapping against the backs of hers as he came. 

Gradually their motions slowed and they collapsed together. He fell across her back, dimly worrying that he was too heavy to lie like this on top of her smaller frame, but she did not try to move him. 

"Ezio... never in my life... my God," she said, still gasping for breath. “Who taught you to do this?” He laughed and buried his face in her hair.

“That, I won't tell you,” he said. “But rest a while, and I will show you some other things I know.”

***

Ezio lost count of how many times they made love, but dawn found him dozing. He became aware of Lucrezia trying to rouse him, shaking his shoulder.

“Ezio... Ezio!” she hissed. 

Dimly he heard the clatter of horses outside.

“Cesare has arrived. He will come to me. You must go – quickly!”

“What? You said he was not here,” he protested, not wanting to move.

Words echoed amongst the faint stirrings of first light. “ _Allow me to take your horse, Duca_.”

Surely this was Alfonso, returning earlier than expected – but the title could apply to Cesare just as easily, and either way Ezio was in dire trouble if he did not move.

“ _My master Alfonso has had rooms prepared for you on the south side of the Palazzo_...”

A reply, unintelligible, but unmistakeably the voice of Cesare Borgia.

 _Merda_!

Ezio rolled out of bed, pulled on his breeches and strapped his hidden blade to his wrist. As he felt for his shirt on the floor in the dim light, he wondered whether to stay and fight. Could he take on Cesare Borgia? The man was many years younger than he was, but Ezio was surely the better fighter. He had experience and self-discipline on his side, at the very least – and he felt it unlikely that Cesare could match his skill with a blade.

Still, he was not prepared. Cesare would have Alfonso's guards ready at his call. Ezio was dazed and sleepy, his limbs still heavy from sex. And such a thing was not for Lucrezia to witness. It should not take place in her own home. He had to run.

"This was a trap,” he said to Lucrezia as he dressed. “You planned for your brother to catch me here, and kill me.”

But why had she woken him? Cesare would surely have killed him if she had let him sleep. His contempt for the Assassins' way of stealth and subterfuge was only for show – given the chance, Cesare Borgia would not hesitate to slay a man as he slept. 

“Yes,” she said, sitting up in bed. “That is what I planned.” Her bare breasts were pale, her nipples still flushed.

Ezio looked out of the window, judging the distance to the ground. God, he was a fool! Sex was still his weakness, no matter what he tried to tell himself. Here he was, roused at dawn, forced to leap from a woman's bedroom window to avoid his certain death. In – how long was it now? Thirty years? How little he had changed. _Idiota_!

“I do not hold it against you, Lucrezia,” he said honestly. “Perhaps, in your position, I would have done the same.”

She nodded. “I will not apologise for what I am,” she said. “But if you wish to keep your life – this time – go now.”

“Lucrezia,” he said, and crossed back to the bed to take her hands. “Cesare will be jealous, when he comes to you. He might hurt you.” They might be enemies, but Lucrezia was still a woman, and Ezio could not stand to think of Cesare laying the force of his rage on her because of something he had done.

“No, Ezio.” She stood up, naked, still holding his hands. “I will not tell him. He will not know.”

He looked her up and down, and knew otherwise. Dishevelled blond hair, flushed skin, dazed eyes. Between her thighs, the remains of his seed glistened, still sticky. The smell of sex clung to her body like perfume.

Cupping her face Ezio tipped her head back and kissed her, sliding his tongue between her lips. With a finger, he reached between her thighs for a final caress. His finger slid between lips still slick and swollen. Lucrezia gasped as he found her sweet spot and flicked it gently. He withdrew his finger, placed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucked her own essence and swallowed. 

“Forgive me, Lucrezia,” he said, his voice low and hoarse with renewed need. “But only a eunuch or a virgin would not know. And Cesare is neither.”

“Cesare will not hurt me, Ezio,” she said softly. “He knows me. I have done worse. Now go.”

“Very well. Farewell, Lucrezia.” He kissed her hand.

He stood on the balcony railing, poised to leap. His cape fluttered around him in the warm wind. 

Lucrezia's chamber door opened, and Cesare Borgia looked straight through the room to the balcony. He saw Ezio instantly.

“You!”

Ezio smiled. “Until next time, Duchessa,” he said, and bowed to Lucrezia.

Cesare looked at Lucrezia, naked, then back at Ezio. “ _Maldito bastardo_ , I'll kill you.”

Ezio jumped, soaring down, flipping over to land on his back in the pile of leaves. He rolled to his feet, and began to run.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Assassin's Creed KinkMeme - slightly edited from its appearance there at http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1145.html?thread=5088377#cmt5088377


End file.
